


i wouldn't know where to start, sweet music playin' in the dark

by craftingdead



Series: charlie will make cd a common tag if it kills them [23]
Category: The Crafting Dead
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dancing, First Kiss, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, also i got sick halfway through working on this BFHJDK, i almost didnt get this finished bcs i was too busy listening to party rock anthem not gonna lie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 18:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18531085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craftingdead/pseuds/craftingdead
Summary: Be still my foolish heart,don’t ruin this on me...“Are you fucking kidding me?”“Jess!” Shark hissed, covering his phone with a hand. Not that it did anything to help. “Not so loud, please.”It wasn't her fault for getting mad, however. Shark wasn't going through with what he promised her on Friday, right before school got out: That he would ask out Nick in one way or another.





	i wouldn't know where to start, sweet music playin' in the dark

“ _ Are you fucking kidding me? _ ”   


“Jess!” Shark hissed, covering his phone with a hand. Not that it did anything to help. “Not so loud, please.”

“ _ Oh I’mmm so sorry—I literally, I listened to you plan out an entire speech. I listened to you plan out an entire speech. You asked him if you could come over for the weekend so you could fucking, unfold it! I took hours out of my day to help you prepare and help you write a whole speech and this is how you do me? It’s Sunday—it’s Sunday night and you still haven’t asked him. You still haven’t asked him, Shark. How do you think AK would feel if I told him about how pathetic you are? _ ”

“He’d beat my ass?”

“ _ He’d beat your ass! Where are you, anyway. Hiding out in a bathroom, I suppose, and leaving you now previously future husband alone in his house. _ ” Jess laughed cruelly. 

Shark was standing in a bathroom. The bathroom of his longtime friend-and-crush, Nick, who he had been planning to ask out to prom. For five months. And it was in two weeks. And he was starting to panic. He had the entire weekend to plan and do it, but he ended up pussying out every time. And now he was never gonna do it and was gonna go to prom alone and was listening to Jess scream at him over the phone. 

“ _ Do you know how many sleepless nights I stayed up, helping? Do you know, Sharkathan? _ ”

“Like, two?” he said.

“ _ One, but close enough! If you don’t ask him out by the time the night’s over, I’m going over to his house and asking him out for you. _ ” 

Then she hung up.

Shark watched five texts pop up on his screen. In order, they read: “ _ SORRY IF THAT MADE U FEEL BAD, _ ” then, “ _ ACTUALLY NVM I WANT U TO FEEL BAD.  FUCKIN BITCHASS. IM TIRED, _ ” then, “ _ AK AND GHETTO WILL BE FUCKING HEARING OF THIS TMRRW AT SCHOOL IF ITS THE LAST THING I DO, _ ” a short, “ _ actually no wait u still have time. i believe in u bastard. get that nussy (nick pussy), _ ” which he almost dropped his phone at, then, at last, “ _ actually no im still fuckin mad at you. eat shit and die cunt. ttyl love u sharky ur one of my best friendsssssssss. _ ”

Shark sent back, “please don’t mortify me tomorrow at school,” and prayed that Jess wasn’t sleep-deprived enough to completely skip past “please don’t” and go straight to “mortify me tomorrow at school.”

Shark was pretty sure she was also high.

He was only mildly surprised Jess reacted this way; she sounded awfully tired (and mildly high, as said before) over the phone, and dealing with his romantic problems was probably what she least wanted to do. Sighing, Shark shoved his phone into the pocket of his jeans and lingered in the bathroom for a few seconds more, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, before shutting off the light and taking the stairs downstairs two steps at a time.

The TV is still flickering movie footage when he got to the living room. (They choose to binge-watch all four Purge movies at the request of AK. It was ten PM currently, and they were still only on Election Year. They are not fun to watch.) 

Nick was laid out across the couch, on his stomach with his legs moving back and forth in the air. On an open patch of the couch (where he wasn’t lounging) sat a long patch of white fur, wagging his tail furiously and panting. Right where he had been sitting. Nick looked at him over his shoulder.

“Sorry, Shark,” he said in a voice that indicated he was not sorry at all. “Yoti took your spot. You’ll have to find somewhere else to sit.”

“Aw, beans,” Shark responded. That definitely was not prom material. He climbed onto the edge of the couch and balanced on the top of it, the edge digging into his spine as he lounged (and tried not to fall backward or onto Nick and Yoti).

Instead of slipping and falling and busting his ass (or giving those two a nasty surprise) he was greeted—or, well, re-greeted to the sight of Nick wearing his hoodie, almost slipping off his shoulders. 

(Nick had pulled it on that morning, giving Shark a look of “dare you to try and take it back.” He didn’t and instead tried to stop his breath from noticeably hitching every time he looked at Nick which, well, which was something he usually dealt with on a day to day basis. It just got harder with this little… incident. Shark felt a jolt up his spine as he looked again.)

“Did your mom give you hell for staying out late without telling her?” he asked and oh, right, that was the claim Shark had made so he could stealthily talk to Jess.

“Uh.. yeah. Yeah!” he stuttered out, less suave then he wanted (or was planning to make it sound). “Yeah. She wasn’t all that happy with me staying another night at your house. Especially wasn’t a fan when I told her your dad wouldn’t be back for a few days.”

Nick snorted. “So it went well, I suppose?”

“She hung up. Don’t know what that means. Think it means I’m allowed to stay at your house another night.”

“She’s probably thanking her gods, right now. She’s probably going onto Google as we speak and looking up cheap hotels for the night, so she can get away from this hell town and her children for a night. Poor woman.”

“What can I say?” Shark grinned. “I’m just a star child and role model. She loves it when I ask for McDonald’s three days in a row.”

Nick hid a snicker and smile behind his hand. It was undoubtedly cute and made Shark’s cheeks flush more than they should’ve. “I wonder why she would dislike you asking for McDonald’s three days in a row. Those sodas are addictive, doesn’t she like to let loose and order one or ten every few days?”

“Every few hours.”

“I rest my case.”

He flipped onto his back and pulled his legs up, allowing Shark to slip from his dangerous perch on top of the couch onto the soft, safe pillows of it. 

He loved talking to Nick like this—he loved joking around like this, being casual like this, but the gnawing feeling in his stomach only grew worse as their arms brushed. And he still couldn’t stop thinking about fucking  _ prom… _

Nick looked away from the TV and gazed slightly worriedly at him. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, reaching out for his arm. Shark did not pull away and instead prayed he couldn’t feel the goosebumps on his arm (he was a fucking wreck, god bless). “You seem distant. Did the thing your mom said actually worry you? You’re always allowed to go home if your mom gets worried, you didn’t lose your keys, right?”

“No!” Shark yelped a little louder than he should. “Uh, I mean, no, no I didn’t lose my keys,” he said and tried to sound as serious as he could, “there’s nothing wrong. Well… there kind of is. Can I tell you something? You have to promise me not to make fun of me for it.”

“Make fun of you for it?” Nick looked confused. “Shark, I wouldn’t make fun of you for anything you see as serious. You can tell me.”

He sucked in a deep breath. He could do it. He could fucking do it. Nick was watching him, chewing his lip with a slight questioning tilt to his head and please.  _ Do not get distracted by the cute boy. _

He could… he could do this! He could tell Nick that prom was on his mind (and maybe ask him out if he really, really got the balls to do it in a period of a few seconds because if he thought about it any longer he would pussy the fuck out) and then he and Nick would be able to talk about it like normal people and then he wouldn’t be worried about the topic anymore and would be able to move onto part two of his plan: Actually asking him out (for real this time, not the fake out last week that ended up with Nick being extremely confused and Jess almost throwing him in a dumpster).

“I mean…” Shark scratched the back of his neck. “If I’m being completely, honestly, a hundred percent honest with you, this whole thing is kind of stupid. But, you wanted to know, so I guess I’ll tell you what’s been on my mind… half of the night… for much longer than I would’ve wanted it to be. Uh.”

He paused, and Nick said, “What is it?” Because apparently, he had been pausing for much longer than anticipated and was shocked back to reality when Nick spoke.

“Fuck, okay, this is embarrassing as hell… but I have been thinking about prom for the longest time, and I’m starting to feel like a movie protagonist.” 

That last part was a joke from his truly and  _ did  _ manage to get an upward turn of the lip from Nick, but unfortunately, his words and actions had consequences, and his confession was going to get responded to, no matter how much he would rather avoid the embarrassment and anxiety.

“That’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Nick said.

“Really?” Shark blurted out, almost interrupting him mid-sentence.

“Yeah!” Nick exclaimed. “I mean, some people would call it stupid, more than likely, but if it’s important to you, it’s not stupid or embarrassing! You shouldn’t feel bad over something you care about if it matters to you it matters to me.”

“Oh, fuck.” Shark put a hand to his chest. “That was deep.”

“Don’t make it weird!” Nick shoved Shark. “It’s true. All of it. You’re important to me, you know that, right?”

“Uh, yeah…” he said, very much aware of how pretty his lashes were. “I’m also terrified of being shit at dancing, if that makes you any less sympathetic of me, Nick.”

“It doesn’t,” he said smiling, “and that doesn’t mean I can’t help you with that.”

“What…?”

Nick stood up suddenly, holding out a hand to Shark. “Come on! We can practice if you’re that worried over it. I can play music on my computer if you really need it, too.”

“I’m not… sure about this? Like are you positive-sure you want to dance with me, Shark, who’ll destroy your feet with my horrible dancing skills. Your toes will not know what it feels like to be un-stepped on after dancing with me.”

Nick pulled him up (he wasn’t that strong so Shark had to half-pull himself up). “It’ll be fun, Shark! If you’re not a coward, that is,” he said with a wink.

Okay, maybe they were doing this.

//

Shark always forgot how Nick’s room looked right before he walked in.

Covered in different colored lights, the overhead lamp bulb had fizzled out long ago, but that wasn’t needed with the amount of lights Nick had strung up all over the place. The walls were pasted in random graffiti and sharpie words that friends had left over the years (Shark saw his own “Go Wildcats!” back from when he was like, twelve). The bed had a borderline canopy with streets strewn and pinned over the top with tacks and duct tape and there were paint splatters across the wall that would end up in an indie artist’s wet dreams.

(He remembered when that happened—Shelby was painting a project on her brother’s floor while he and the rest of the gang argued about something and one thing led to another and there was suddenly a full-blown paint throwing war going on. It ended with AK got some in his eye and had to go to the hospital.)

It was stupid, he guessed and seemed too faked for its own aesthetic good but the feeling was so distinctly Nick and that override any feelings of annoyance that he held for the room. And he almost tripped over a book, so that dampened the “Pinterest worthy artist’s college dorm” feel of the whole thing.

Shark turned back his gaze to Nick, who had bounded over to his computer and was now searching through YouTube. “What song do you want?” he called out to Shark.

“Party Rock Anthem.”

“You want to waltz to Party Rock Anthem?”

_ They were gonna waltz? They were gonna fancy-dance? _ “Of course,” he said, “who wouldn’t want to waltz to Party Rock Anthem?”

Nick shrugged. “Your choice!” he said before clicking on a video and skipping back to Shark and it was, indeed, Party Rock Anthem. “I put it on loop, by the way.”

“Do you know how to dance?” Shark said.

“No. Do you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“This should be fun!”

Some things started to come back as Nick put a hand on his shoulder. He was supposed to put a hand on his waist, right? Yeah, that was supposed to happen. And they were supposed to entwine hands or something, and then walk around in a circle or square. (They did entwine hands and Shark almost tripped over a wire when it happened.)

Party Rock Anthem was a horrible song to half-waltz to. They spun around Nick’s room, trying not to fall over strategically placed books and chairs and other random shit lying around. Shark was dizzy by the first chorus, whether that was from the dancing and spinning or from holding Nick so close, he didn’t know, because  _ damn, _ he was hopeless at this point. But he was smiling by the first verse and Nick was grinning at his shitty lip sync to the lyrics.

The lights combined bathed his brown skin in this almost magenta light, arms now completely wrapped around his neck as they spun lawlessly through his room. They were bound to trip and fall and bust their asses eventually,

One hand was tangled in his hair and the other was still holding on tightly to his waist and Shark really didn’t know how romantic Party Rock Anthem could get until they started to slow down, moving from the speed of sound, bouncing around the room to a slow move, him watching Nick sway to the song with his eyes straining to stay open. A quick glance over to the digital clock in his room read a time closer to twelve AM (and Jesus Christ, how did they get there) but his eyes kept moving back to Nick’s eyes, his lips his  _ hips  _ and the feeling of his arms wrapped around his neck.

If they didn’t stop soon Shark felt like he was gonna make a very stupid decision and maybe ruin his friendship. Okay, they needed to stop like, right now because Nick’s head was resting against his chest and  _ god  _ did he not want to ruin a relationship.

“Hey, Nick?” he said, voice cracking horribly, nearing giving up his entire “don’t ruin a friendship” plan when Nick mumbled a muffled “mmh-hmm?” against his chest. “It’s getting, like, late as hell. We should probably go to bed if we don’t wanna feel like shit at school tomorrow.”

“Oh, right,” Nick responded and peeled himself off of Shark to go turn off the music. He immediately missed the warmth.

Shark stepped back a few paces and let himself fall backward onto Nick’s bed, groaning loudly. It was the softest thing he had felt in the last two hours and his legs were sore as fuck. He most likely wasn’t getting back up again for at least ten hours after this, God. Shark managed to pull himself up and get his head resting on a pillow—instead of resting on the long end of Nick’s bed, where he would have eventually slipped off and fallen asleep on the floor in an extremely uncomfortable position.

Nick shut his computer and stumbled over to the bed, curling up next to Shark. Like bros. Because bros fall asleep next to each other on the same bed after dancing for near hours, Shark tried to convince himself. 

“You still worried about prom? And dancing?” Nick asked.

“Not anymore.”

They ended up falling asleep with him curled up on his chest, head tucked underneath Shark’s chin with his arm wrapped around Nick’s thigh and the blanket only reaching up to his waist. The lights danced behind his shut eyes.

//

Shark woke up to about ten different notifications from his phone. At once.

And the all read some sort of “where are you?” all in different tons. Ghetto’s text was just him flaming Shark for not being at school and Jess was near hysterical.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked over to the clock. Eleven AM. Oh  _ fuck. _

“Nick—Nick, holy shit, wake up, we slept in,” he said, shaking his friend (who had rolled off in the night—with Shark’s arm wrapped around his waist instead of thigh. Left him feeling all warm and tingly inside but also left his arm feeling all warm and tingly and mildly numb). “We’re like, late as fuck to school if we don’t wanna skip.”

Nick pushed himself up with a “huh?” noise, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Messy, bedhead hair fell over his face and curled around his chin. Yellow light filtered softly through his blinds and almost canceled out his lights, leaving just enough for the room to still have magenta undertones. He pulled himself up to sitting height, squinting at Shark, annoyed, hands resting on his scarred thighs and Shark suddenly felt awfully brave. Way too brave for his own good. 

“Do you want to go out with me?” Shark asked.

“What?” Nick said.

“I said, do you want to go out with me. Like, dating-dating.”

Nick rubbed his eyes then stared at Shark as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Then, shyly, he said, “Okay. Yeah, I’ll go out with you.”

“Okay.” _ FUCK. YES. _

“Okay!” There was a high note in Nick’s voice and there was a dumb smile starting to spread across Shark’s face. “Can I kiss you?”

Shark nearly toppled him over in a “yes,” Nick’s head resting back against his pillows as he kissed back. Maybe this wasn’t the ideal movie date-asking-out he had planned or the “kissing under the stars” Jess always ranted about but, hey, he said yes. And Nick’s hair smelt really nice. And maybe this was worth skipping school for, as his hands found his way around Shark’s neck (like the night before).


End file.
